


Allowances Given

by betweentheheavesofstorm



Series: Keeping One's Word And Other Mistakes [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Modern Westeros, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-15
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-12-30 06:57:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12103227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/betweentheheavesofstorm/pseuds/betweentheheavesofstorm
Summary: In a better universe, Brienne wakes up to discover what happened is just a dream.This is not that universe.





	Allowances Given

Jaime has already gone down to breakfast when Brienne wakes up. At least, she assumes that’s where he’s gone. He might have taken the opportunity to make a run for it and never have to address the events of the previous night. It’s an option that’s appealing to her, certainly.

She gets dressed in the bathroom, even though he’s not around. It’s become a habit now, and the towel rail is perfectly placed for hanging up her bra.

Sure enough, Jaime is downstairs, sitting by himself at a table by the window. He doesn’t acknowledge her entrance, nor does she cast more than a cursory glance in his direction.

Brienne loads up her plate from the buffet and takes it over to him. However awkward it might be with just the two of them, she’s partly relieved the rest of his family aren’t around.

‘Morning,’ she says, putting the plate down and pulling out the chair opposite his.

‘Morning.’ He does look at her then, in the same way he’s done every breakfast. She sips her coffee, trying to disguise the relief that’s rushing through her. He’s forgotten or he doesn’t care; either way he doesn’t seem like he’s about to bring it up.

She’s still undecided as to if she should tell Asha or not. On the one hand, kissing people is far more Asha’s department and she might be able to give some sensible advice. On the other hand, she’ll probably be laughing too hard for any of her advice to be coherent.

‘Where is everybody?’ Brienne asks, busying herself with her scrambled eggs.

‘Playing golf. Father and Cersei, anyway. I don’t know what Tyrion’s doing.’ Jaime’s tone is light and bored. Definitely not the sound of somebody who’s thinking carefully about their answers.

So he’s brushing it off and she should too. It was just something that happened when they were both tired. Never mind that it’s the first time someone has kissed her like _that_ , or the first time she’s ever –

No. She’s not about to go down that rabbit hole. This is Jaime she’s thinking about. It’s taken them both months to build a fragile foundation of trust – and even longer to like each other’s company. They’ve brought out good things in each other; she’s seen things in him she would have thought impossible. But that’s all it is, all it ever should be.

‘The Starks wouldn’t put you in a hotel this nice,’ he says, finishing his meal and pushing his plate away.

‘Catelyn has never been anything but generous,’ Brienne contends.

‘That’s because she likes you, not because she’s a fantastic employer.’

 _So you don’t like me?_ She bites the words back. Any other day she’d say it and entangle them both in a silly argument about job benefits or something. Right now, it’s not a topic she wants to get into.

‘Brienne,’ he says. He’s calling her by name. Shit. ‘Perhaps we should talk about – ’

‘No,’ she interrupts, laying her fork down and meeting his gaze squarely. She can’t, she _won’t_ , hear his excuses. His disdain and his anger she can handle fine, but his pity will be something else. In all the time she’s known him, he’s never been quick to apologise and this would be unbearable.

And even if she did want to talk about it, she wouldn’t choose to _over breakfast._

‘No?’

‘I’ve reconsidered your offer. To visit my father. If it still stands, I would like to accept.’

Jaime’s mouth flattens into a line. Was he that anxious to embarrass her, that her heading it off is such a disappointment?

‘Of course,’ he says, his tone measured. ‘We can leave today. I’ll accompany you as far as King’s Landing. You can get a flight from there.’

‘Thank you.’

He nods a small acknowledgement. Morning light is filtering through the window and turning the edges of his hair gold. She looks away.

‘There is a company dinner on the eighteenth,’ he says. ‘I – and therefore, you – are expected to make an appearance. If your father’s health has continued to decline, I’ll make your excuses.’

She’s not sure what to say to that. He’s being uncharacteristically generous by giving her yet another out, but if she’s not there what happens to the money he’s already paid her? Looking at him now, it’s unlikely he would ask her to return it. Still, she would have to. Her sense of honour would demand it. She can accept favours, but she’ll be damned if she’s indebted to Jaime Lannister.

‘I’m sure that won’t be necessary,’ she says. ‘I have a job to do.’

He nods, businesslike again. ‘All right. I’ll call Father and explain where you’re going.’

Her plate is still half full. ‘I’ll pack as soon as I’m done.’

He nods again, and gets up to leave. Guilty Jaime is a lot more cooperate than his usual self. A shame she feels too shit to appreciate it.

 

* * *

 

Even with the implications surrounding her departure, leaving the hotel still feels like the best decision she’s made all week. She’s packed and ready in record time, and then Jaime is waiting with a taxi and they’re driving away.

She leans back in her seat and looks out the window. They probably ought to keep the image of happy couple up for the sake of the taxi driver, but at this minute she doesn’t have the energy. It was weird enough when he helped with her bags in the lobby. She’d had to bite back saying she could carry them herself and instead feigned affection.

For his part, he hasn’t wavered in the role of loving boyfriend. It ought to be a good thing, but it’s leaving a weird feeling in her stomach. He complains when he’s in a bad mood and teases when he’s in a good one. This blankness she can’t read so easily.

It’s easier once they’re on the train. The first class carriage is almost empty, so there’s no one in earshot. Jaime takes out his phone and seems set on ignoring her, until she speaks.

‘Where will you go?’

He glances up.

‘You’re pretending to accompany me. No one on Tarth will care if you’re there or not; they’ll be too busy asking me if I’ve lost my mind. So where are you planning on hiding?’

‘I don’t know.’ He seems entertained by the prospect. ‘I might stay in the city. Find a nice flat for a week.’

‘What about being recognised?’

‘Far less likely when I’m surrounded by people. If you see articles about the dashing Jaime Lannister lookalike seen buying coffee, you’ll get what I mean.’

‘Reassuring.’

‘What do _you_ intend to say?’

‘To what?’

‘Everyone asking if you’ve lost their mind.’

‘Probably that I have.’

It’s a good thing they’re back in the place where they can joke about what a spectacle the relationship is. Flippancy is easy to handle.

‘And Cersei thinks it’s me who’s gone mad,’ he muses. ‘Perhaps we are.’

 _It would explain a few things._ No. That’s not a productive thought. She’s already decided they’re not going to discuss it and she better stick by that decision. In a couple of hours she’ll be on a plane, by herself, going home. By the end of the month, she’ll have put the entire mess behind her.

What she’s actually going to say to her father, she hasn’t come up with. The upside is that he’ll be significantly easier to deal with than Tywin Lannister. The downside is that she’ll be dealing with him on her own.

Not that it would help to have Jaime there. While Selwyn is at his core a traditional man, and Brienne having a rich boyfriend would be huge plus, this particular rich boyfriend would be an endless source of conflict. Jaime would be a smartarse, Selwyn would be stiff and Brienne would want to murder them both.

‘You’ll have to send me some pictures of Tarth,’ Jaime says, cutting through her train of thought. ‘So I can say what it looks like and Instagram one.’

She nods distractedly.

‘I can always return the favour,’ he continues. ‘I’ll see how drunk I can get and liveblog the process.’

At that, she gives him a look.

‘I’ve just spent five days in close contact with my father,’ he points out. ‘I think that allows me to get pissed at the soonest opportunity.’

‘I thought you were the Lannister child who didn’t binge-drink.’

‘We have our exceptions. I don’t expect you to relate.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘Just that you probably work through your problems with kale and yoga and motivational quotes.’

‘I once destroyed an antique chair to get you to listen,’ she reminds him. ‘I thought you knew me well enough to guess my coping mechanisms include punchbags.’

‘You _did,’_ he remembers. ‘It was an ugly chair.’

The rest of the journey is mostly easy. When they’re talking, she’s able to put everything aside and behave as though she’s still just his bodyguard. Only now and then, when she thinks they’re finally in safe territory, he meets her eyes and the memory of his mouth and hands leaps to the front of her mind.

Neither of them know what to say when they get to King’s Landing. He’s fidgeting with his phone and she’s trying to figure out how to thank him while not forgiving him for screwing her over. In the end, she settles for something heartfelt.

‘Just remember,’ she says, ‘if someone tries to kill you this week, it’s not my responsibility.’

**Author's Note:**

> Looks like this is going to be a mini-series. Probably very mini, because I do have a ton of writing commitments I should be doing instead of this. (But then I said it would only be a one-shot, so believing me isn't always best). 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who enjoyed and commented on the last part - I hope you like this one, too.
> 
> As always, I'm reachable on Tumblr at [betweentheheavesofstorm](http://www.betweentheheavesofstorm.tumblr.com)


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